


Getting to Know You Again

by sleepygirl0305



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (eventually) - Freeform, M/M, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Reunion Sex, Reunions, kinda emo but honestly the ending is nice, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:48:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28756140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepygirl0305/pseuds/sleepygirl0305
Summary: On the sixth day, Sirius is playing a game of Wizard chess with an invisibly conjured rival when he hears a crack from the kitchen. Immediately, he reaches for his wand and feels anxiety rise up his throat as he begins creeping towards the kitchen. No one knew the protections to be able to apparate in the house. Unless it was someone he once trusted.He expected Pettigrew, and was ready to yell the killing curse when he heard a stumble in the kitchen, as if someone had tripped. He rounded the corner, and saw him.Remus was panting, holding on the chair as an anchor.“Sorry,” he said, “Apparating takes more effort than it used to.”But Sirius learned one thing in the past 12 years: trust no one.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	Getting to Know You Again

**Author's Note:**

> these wonderful boys were cheated from their happily ever after. jk rowling SUCKS!

Number 12 Grimmauld Place was known for its fair share of drama and unexpected surprises. Perhaps, if the house could speak and think for itself, it would not be entirely surprised by the loud  _ crack  _ that appeared in the middle of the living room. It would also not be surprised that an exhausted, starved Sirius Black emerged from the floor.

Weakly, he stood up, knees wobbling, and made his way to sit on an old armchair. Just for a little peace. Somewhere at the back of his mind, he was proud that he still managed to remember to bypass the house’s protections to apparate. In fact, it was impressive he had the strength to apparate at all.

After a few moments, he yelled with his last possible efforts, “Kreacher.”

The house elf came across the corner, and Sirius detected his eyes opening with disbelief before it abruptly faded as he bowed.

“Master Sirius, you have returned.”

“Indeed. If you could make me a cup of tea, that would be appreciated. A biscuit, too.”

“Master Sirius, there is hardly any food left in the house, since Mistress Walburga passed.”

He felt a pang of disappointment, but continued, “Very well. Tea is fine. Whatever food is left, give it to me.”

Ten minutes later, he was sipping a cup of black tea (and he was pleased to have it with some milk and sugar, as Azkaban barely even gave him a scrap at times) as Kreacher watched at the door frame, staring with undisguised disgust.

Finally, he snapped, “I will be living here now, thus I am still the owner of this home. I will keep out of your way most of the time, just carry on and clean the house, and pay me no mind. Understood?”

Kreacher bowed, “Yes, master.”

“There will be another creature living in my mother's room. Do not come near him,” He commanded, “I will take charge of feeding and cleaning him. Now, carry on. I wish to be alone.”

The house elf left, muttering of traitors and muggle-borns and hideous creatures. That didn’t matter to Sirius as he wolfed down a small sandwich and a treacle. The bread in the sandwich seemed slightly expired, but he didn’t care. The last two weeks hiding with Buckbeak was only filled with skilled diversion, and he managed to escape the Ministry three times. He planned on apparating back to the cave, where Buckbeak waited for him, and sneaking him to his mother’s room.

After a minute of unstopped eating, he returned and took Buckbeak back, hiding in what was once Walburga’s room. He bowed to the hippogriff, and he bowed back. Sirius felt a pang of pride: that even after all his awful deeds, he still was given a shred of respect. More than anyone had given him in years.

+

He decided to take a bath. He never liked the way he smelled once he entered Azkaban. He was  _ Sirius Black,  _ for god’s sake. He liked his hair in waves, he liked smelling good, and he liked being handsome.

So here he was, in his old bathroom, washing his face with cold water. Briefly, he contemplated just using a wizarding way of showering, but he remembered enjoying the way Muggles cleaned themselves up.

Reaching down the lower cupboard of the sink, he felt around before pulling out an old, sparkly memory. And for the first time in a couple weeks, he smiled. 

It shone pink and gold, with a star on its surface. He turned on the water to boiling hot, and briefly closed his eyes to remember.

_ “What in the bloody hell is that, Evans?” He said as his legs dangled on a rock by the lake, taking in the summer air. She held another circular ball that looked smooth and glittery.  _

_ And the redhead sat next to him, eyes gleaming, said, “Would you like to find out?” _

_ Sirius barely had time to answer before she dropped it into the water, and the ball began to twist around. He yelped in surprise, then soon stared in awe. The ball fizzed into the water, growing smaller and smaller. The water surrounding it began to take its color, resembling the galaxy. Lily smiled as he watched his reaction. _

_ “What’s that called?” He said, finally. _

_ “It’s called a bath bomb. I recently discovered it, it’s a Muggle thing. You put it in the bath and it makes the water look pretty and smell good. Neat, isn’t it?” _

_ She handed him a small bag, and as he reached for it, he noted it was heavy. _

_ “Here. I thought you’d like some to try yourself. Since you’re a dramatic prat. _

_ “Oi, watch it.” _

Sirius stepped into the water and submerged his body into the smell of lavender and mint. He then reached out for an almost-empty shampoo and conditioner standing at the edge of the tub and scrubbed it into his scalp as much as possible. He breathed, looked into the water that bubbled all layers of brilliant pink and yellow, and the woman who gave him the bag of bath bombs. How she yelled after one-year-old Harry flying on a tiny broomstick. James laughing, and Remus trying to recapture the toddler to safety.

And for the first time in 12 years, he allowed himself to sob.

+

The next five days involved feeding Buckbeak with raw meat, scarfing down meals meant for three people instead of just him, and sleeping. He stayed clear of Kreacher, only speaking to him when the elf began to spout the same bigoted nonsense his mother used to spit out.

On the second day since he returned, he thought of owling Dumbledore, or someone. But he hadn’t forgiven the old codger yet for leaving him to rot for more than a decade. 

And he was tired. Just wanted a moment to give himself the comfort he had not been granted. And to think. For god’s sake, he needed to think.

First, he let himself think of Harry. He had not seen him since he was a baby. And the first time he had laid his eyes on him when he snuck up to Privet Drive, he almost stumbled back into turning into a human out of surprise. If he had not known better, he would have thought James had stumbled back to life. But still, he did not have enough time with him to truly get to know him. What was he like? Did he inherit the Marauder mischief? Or was he more like his mother?

And then, he allowed himself to grieve Lily and James. After their death, he fought to get custody of Harry from Hagrid, to no avail. And then he was on the run before getting captured. 

He did not think about Peter. He did not want to. Because the traitor didn’t deserve a thought.

The hardest thing yet was not thinking about Remus. He had not seen the man until he was at there himself at the Whomping Willow trying to control Sirius from letting his rage commit a true murder. He saw the scars, more pronounced on his face, and the exhaustion from years of pain. Sirius wanted to gather him in his arms, and kiss him the way he used to.

But that affection was years ago. Their best friends were dead, the other a traitor. The only reminder they had of happier times was locked up with abusive relatives. There was so much to worry about. He didn’t know if Remus felt the same way, and thus, he wanted to avoid the subject as much as possible.

(When the nightmares subside, he dreams of how Remus used to inhale his scent, how they spent time alone in the Astronomy Tower. And Sirius wakes up trying to chase after the wisps of sleep, only to fall back to reality.)

+

On the sixth day, Sirius is playing a game of Wizard chess with an invisibly conjured rival when he hears a  _ crack  _ from the kitchen. Immediately, he reaches for his wand and feels anxiety rise up his throat as he begins creeping towards the kitchen. No one knew the protections to be able to apparate in the house. Unless it was someone he once trusted.

He expected Pettigrew, and was ready to yell the killing curse when he heard a stumble in the kitchen, as if someone had tripped. He rounded the corner, and saw him.

Remus was panting, holding on the chair as an anchor.

“Sorry,” he said, “Apparating takes more effort than it used to.”

But Sirius learned one thing in the past 12 years: trust no one.

He pointed his wand square at his face as he slowly walked towards his only surviving friend. The tip directed completely at the other man, whose eyes widened like dinner plates.

“The last words Lily Potter said to us before her death. Only you and I were in the room.”

“Sirius, it’s me, please-”

“Say them or I hex you.”

Remus’ eyes welled up from tears, either from the pressure or from the pain of the memory, “She told us she loved us both, and to do everything in our power to raise Harry.”

“There was something else.”

“Yes, of course. To remember to not teach Harry to be a wanker.”

He lowered his wand. As if he now remembered to do the same, Remus lifted his own wand.

“What was the dish we used to prepare for James that he loved when we were at Hogwarts?”

Sirius said, matter-of-factly, “American biscuits. With gravy.”

His friend gulped audibly as he lowered his wand, before he started whispering, “I’m sorry I did not try to come after you right away. I was afraid. And I took a few days to try to remember how to break the protection magic into the house. I quit teaching. Harry is home at Privet Drive.”

“Why didn’t you take him with you?” Sirius demanded.

“Dumbledore said no-”

“Fuck Dumbledore! He has never tried to look out for you and me. He let me go to prison, he let you suffer, and he sent Harry to live with a family of shitheads. Remus, are you truly so daft?”

Remus raised his voice, taking back control of the conversation, “Dumbledore explained that Lily’s protection charm only protects Harry at its best when he is with the Dursleys. And you know damn well why I didn’t take him with me. I don’t have enough Wolfsbane with me anymore. I am not going to harm him, I refuse to.”

Silence descended upon them. Finally, Remus broke it.

“Do you have anything to eat? Sorry, I’m starving.”

Sirius nodded, “Do you still like chocolate cake?”

+

Hours later, eating chicken and eggs and a vegetable soup, they both sat in the living room. There was still silence. As if there were no words to what they were feeling. And Sirius  _ hated  _ the silence. Between him and Remus, there was hardly ever a quiet moment. There was always conversation, gentle jabs, whispered pet names, or moans muffled by skin.

“Why did you come, Remus?”

Remus looked at him, and Sirius thought he detected a flicker of yearning before turning away, “I couldn’t let myself not check in on you. I haven’t seen you in twelve years. I wanted to make sure you were safe. I wasn’t even sure if you’d be here, it was completely by chance.”

“What are you going to do now since you’ve quit Hogwards?”

He shrugged, “God knows. I’ve been thinking of taking a muggle job just to give myself some leeway for money.”

“Do you need somewhere to stay?”

They met eyes, and Sirius’ heart pounded. Feelings, strong ones he had not felt since his 20s, lined his stomach in flutters.

“I can’t possibly ask that of you.”

“It’s fine, believe me. During the full moons, I can lock you in Regulus’ room.”

“So I’ll stay in Regulus’ room then?”

“Uh…” Sirius had hoped to ask him to stay with him, but he pushed the thought from his mind,  _ of course, what a preposterous request,  _ “Yes. I prepare breakfast at 8, lunch at 1, and dinner at 6.”

Remus, to his surprise, had the inklings of a smile on his face, “You hated routine, last I checked. Is that a new change?”

He sighed in response, “When you are tortured on a schedule, you get used to it.”

The smile quickly faded, before he said rather hastily, “Maybe I should check Regulus’ room out.”

+

Over the next week, they live in silence. It’s so hard on the both of them, but it was hard to break the silence. There was almost nothing good to really talk about, at least none he can think of. They only talk about food, the weather. Remus reads on a couch from the extensive Black library while Sirius catches up on the news.

And Sirius can’t stop thinking about Harry. So finally, one day, he breaks the torturous quiet.

“What’s Harry like?”

Remus lowered his book, “You met him, no?”

He snorted, “Git. I saw him for all of 20 minutes while I wanted to murder a rat in his friend’s hand. That’s hardly time to get to know someone.”

His friend (ex-lover, but he won’t admit that out loud) looked thoughtful, smiling now at the insult, “He is...definitely James’ son. I caught him once wandering the halls with our map.”

Sirius gasped, “ _ Our  _ map? How did he find it?”

“Molly Weasley’s twin sons found it, apparently. In any case, I found him and had to scold him. He is sassy, makes retorts on the fly. Brilliant at Defense Against the Dark Arts, but I caught him more than one occasion distracted in class.”

“And yet...I see so much of Lily in him. He cares about his friends an incredible amount. He asks really hard questions to answer at times. Oh, and he has a Slytherin enemy, much like her at the end of seventh year with Snape.”

“Does he still have our map?”

“To my knowledge, yes. I gave it back to him. He needs it more than we do.”

+

After that first conversation, things lighten up. At dinner, Sirius and Remus talk of old memories of Hogwarts. The pranks, the times they lazed in the sun, and James’ parents caring for them.

One day, a bomb is dropped.

“What was Azkaban like?”

Sirius stared at his soup, stirring at it, and he sees his friend shrink at the corner of his eyes, so he quickly says, “Terrible. Dark, and cold all the time. Could hardly get a shower, and meals were scarce. And yet…”

“Yet?”

“I wasn’t as impacted by the torture as others. Because I already went through enough torture in real life. I didn’t know if my godson was safe, I didn’t know where you were, Peter betrayed us, and Lily and James were dead. That’s enough grief in real life. At least staying in Azkaban, I was briefly distracted from grieving.”

He looks down at his glass of water, until he feels something warm cover his hand.

“I don’t think I ever got to tell you how happy I am to see you,” Remus whispered, holding his hand, “When I found out you broke out from Azkaban, I worried they’d try to kill you. There wasn’t a day that I didn’t think of you, Padfoot.”

“How did you survive after all this time? Where did you go in the full moon?”

“I’ll explain that another time,” He replied grimly, “I don’t like to think about it. The year I taught at Hogwarts was the happiest I had in a long time. And then I found out what Dumbledore did.”

“Wait, what did he do?”

“Left you in Azkaban,” he spat, “never trying to defend you. Or now, that he knows the truth, won’t even say anything to the papers or to the ministry to stop hunting you down. I stormed into his office, yelled at him, and told him to never contact me again unless it was about Harry.”

Sirius whistled slowly, “I don’t think I’ve heard you scream in years, Moony.”

_ Except nights when we were alone in the Astronomy Tower,  _ he thinks bitterly.

“There is a different type of anger when you know that you don’t have much to lose,” Remus says with some finality.

+

The nightmares come and go, and still they have Sirius panting awake.

They almost go the same: a flashback to one of the happiest days of his life. He and Remus were baking a cake for themselves, as well as James and Lily. She was about 7 months pregnant at that point, and she was planning to announce the baby’s name that night. They wanted to celebrate, take a break from the fear of the war.

And then things swirl, they are dead on the ground. Harry battered on the ground, unconscious. Remus is a werewolf now, howling at the moon before coming to attack him and rip his face off-

“Padfoot!”

He startled awake. Remus was standing with a tip of light on his wand.

“I heard you screaming. I thought something had happened.”

“Sorry. A nightmare, that’s all. You can go back to bed.”

“Actually,” he squinted, hesitating, “Could I lie down with you? I can’t sleep, either. Maybe if we talk to each other, it’ll be easier.”

Sirius looked at him, and he couldn’t say no. Would  _ never _ say no.

He scooted and made room, “If I recall, you are an extreme kicker. Try not to push me off the bed, Moony.”

“As if you’re not going to snore.” He easily retorted.

They both went to lie down on the bed, a moment passed before Sirius said, “What do we even talk about?”

“I’ll just say something on my mind lately,” Remus said, “I never got to tell you. I went into Hogwarts thinking I’d go light on Snape. I shouldn’t have even tried. He’s like a piece of snot, sticking around everywhere he shouldn’t be.”

Sirius barked a laugh out, “When we graduated Hogwarts, James confided that he wished we weren’t so hard on him. Otherwise, Lily might have invited him to the wedding. I told him he shouldn’t bother. He knew he was going to become a Death Eater, and many of us knew it.”

“Yeah.”

“Can I ask you something?” Sirius turned on to his side.

“Of course.” Remus turned to look at him.  _ Look at those eyes,  _ Sirius thought,  _ I’d remember them anywhere I would go. Even in prison, I remembered. _

And the question he would ask - well, it wasn’t the easiest of conversations. It had been on his mind plenty, and he needed to ask, even if it hurt his tongue to admit it out loud. Even if he could risk this unsteady friendship he had at the moment.

“First of all, I want to say I am so sorry for thinking you were the traitor. You were -  _ are  _ \- my most trusted confidant. You know this. But as the war went on, I got paranoid. I couldn’t trust anyone.”

Remus sat up on his side, “Sirius, there is no need to apologize. I didn’t trust you either. And I regret it so much. In our suspicion of each other, we forgot to suspect the one man who is literally a rat in his animagus form.”

He barked a laugh again. He forgot how funny he was, “Still. It destroyed me from the inside, not trusting you. Look what it cost me. What it cost us.”

The other man considered this for a moment, and nodded.

“But even through all the paranoia I was facing, the fear I faced, I had a question I wanted to ask you. It was before it went downhill. And, I know it’s years later. I still need an answer.”

“Padfoot, what are you saying?”

“I was going to ask you to marry me.”

And Remus gasped slowly, inhaling air so fast that he began to cough. Sirius was ready to hit his back in case it became too much, but he was able to get together.

“Really?”

“Yes. And my question was,” he paused, “If you would have said yes, if I asked.”

In the dead silence that lasted 10 seconds, Sirius took that as a rejection.

“Blimey. Sorry for springing that on you,” he said now, trying to push back, looking away, “Forget I asked. I think I need some water, do you want anything?”

“Sirius.”

“Remus, it was  _ years  _ ago, you have to understand. It doesn’t matter what you think now, I just needed to know. I was curious, that’s all.”

“Sirius!”

He stopped dead in his tracks, and finally looked at him. Remus’ face was soft, as if he needed a hug.

“Fucking shit. Hold on, where is the bloody thing-”

From his neckline, Remus pulled out a chain with a gold ring hanging on to it. It gleamed in the moonlight.

“This,” his voice was barely above a whisper, “was the ring I was going to propose to you with. On November 3rd, 1981.”

Sirius’ head made some fast calculations, and faster realizations. His birthday was  _ on  _ the 3rd, he was going to turn 22 that year. But the 31st...that was when…

“And you couldn’t propose because then Lily and James died.” He sat up abruptly.

“Yes,” he whispered again, “they were even in on it. They knew. James helped me pick out the ring. So, to answer your question. If you asked, I would have said yes. Of course I would have said yes.”

And the tears started streaming, as he moved closer to capture Remus into a hug. He hugged back fiercely, his own sobs muffled into Sirius’ pajama top.

“Oh my god, I missed you so much.” Remus managed to stutter out.

_ I may as well say it,  _ he thought, “And I never stopped loving you.”

His friend abruptly pushed him away, his hands still on his shoulders.

“Me too. Me too.” His hand was cupping his cheek, the other arm snaking around his waist, “Please, let me kiss you.”

He didn’t even finish when Sirius surged forward, wrapping his arms around his shoulders, lips capturing his. Remus sighed into the kiss, his hand weaving into the other man’s hair like he used to, years and years ago. When they parted, Remus pressed his lips to Sirius’ neck, reverent and loving.

“I’m never letting go of you ever again, Moony,” Sirius said, eyes closing, “I hope you know that.”

**Author's Note:**

> let me know what you think!


End file.
